


play a game

by Rag



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Friendship, Gen, Mindfuck, Pesterlog, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 20:24:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11321046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rag/pseuds/Rag
Summary: bro and dave watch a movie(read the tags)





	play a game

Your name is Dave Strider. You’re 12 years old and you’re currently in the midst of attempting, futilely, to help John see the error of his ways with his hellaciously bad movie choices. These movies just aren't good, and he refuses to see that.

EB: they’re ironic! sometimes i think you’re impossible to please with this stuff. i think you just like arguing with me.

EB: i'm hurt, dave.

TG: the truth hurts but it makes you stronger

TG: theyre not ironic

TG: theyre only ironic in that they suck

TG: and they seem to revel in this fact

TG: you cant be ironic and know that youre ironic unless you go the full hog with it

TG: also i get the strong impression youre thoroughly invested in the character drama of con air and im concerned for you

EB: i plead the fifth.

TG: you would

TG: anyway

TG: good irony is so much more than that

TG: im talking meta level irony

TG: im talking shakycam beachside conversations about taxes

TG: im talking staging everyone on the left half of the screen for a solid 30 minutes for literally no reason

EB: that sounds stupid.

TG: no it sounds rad as hell what are you talking about

TG: anyway this faux-irony shit is just pussyfooting around being an honest to god saccharine schmaltzfest and using the trappings of gods most sacred art form as window dressings to hide that fact

TG: it is an insult to me and everything i love

EB: i think we just need to watch it again. i think we need to stream it now so i can show you how great it is.

TG: sorry im busy counting lint specks on my desk im gonna have to make a hard pass on that one

EB: wow! rude!

EB: you’ll never watch it with me again?

TG: ok so listen

TG: maybe

TG: someday

TG: if a lot of things happen

TG: one being

You hear footsteps in the stairwell.

TG: g2g

You close out your chat client, lock your phone, tuck it in your pocket, and make your way to your room as fast and quietly as you can. And you wait.

Keys in the door.

You wish your door had a lock. You hate just having to wait for whatever happens next.

He slams the door closed and you flinch. Sometimes you wish he had a schedule he could stick to so you would know when you’d be alone. That’d be nice. The house is way fucking quiet, so you hear every little step he takes, you hear him pop in a movie, and you hear him fall on the couch. You hope he just forgot about you, or that he's too enamored with whatever gross trash he's watching to bother with you.

“Where you at, lil’ man?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You don’t try to hide, because he will absolutely come looking for you. He’s pulled you out from under your bed before. And then he'd be pissed, because you tried to hide from him when he wanted to talk to you or fight with you or whatever else.

You open the door. He pats the seat on the couch next to him.

“Why you always close your door, man? Got somethin’ to hide from your big bro?” He smiles at you as he says this. You ignore your racing heartbeat, try to keep cool, because shit isn't hitting the fan and if you stay cool maybe it'll stay that way. “C’mere, dude. Got something you’re gonna want to see.”

You make your legs walk over and sit down on the couch. You watch the TV screen, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He’s doing the thing where he wants to be your friend. Which is kind of cool? Maybe? Sort of? Part of you thinks it’s cool. But part of you really doesn’t.

The movie is dark and bleak. A guy gets out of a bathtub, gasping, in a disgusting, grimy room, with a chain around his foot. You already feel sick.

“What movie is this?”

He turns to face you, a little too slowly, and it’s fucking weird.

“It’s Saw. Didn’t you say you wanted to see this? I brought it home for you.”

You did not. You did not say that at any fucking point ever, because you pointedly did not want to see this. The character on the screen calls for help. _Where am I? I’m probably dead. Someone help me! Who is that?_

“Dave? Didn’ you want to see this?” He smiles again. He’s in a mood, you can tell. He gets like this sometimes, where he just won't be content to leave you alone. And when he's like this, you get this sick feeling that he's just poking at you like you're a frog on a dissection table, seeing what dead parts of you he can make twitch.

You nod stiffly.

“That’s it. See, your ol’ bro can do some good for you, can’t he?” He pats you a little too hard on the back. “What the fuck?”

“What?”

“Why are you flinching? I’m just trying to watch a fucking movie with you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I have homework, I have to go-“

“Bullshit, you ain’t got jack shit to do.”

You get up. Maybe you can make it to your room. _And then what?_

He gets up. Grabs you by the shoulders and throws you back on the couch.

“Where do you think you’re going, lil’ man? I thought you wanted to watch this with me.”

More screaming from the surround-sound speakers.

No, this is fine. You ignore the ache in your shoulders from where his hands pressed into them and and try to focus on the movie. You’re just watching a movie with your brother. A cool movie. Not every kid gets to watch horror movies. He’s letting you in on it. It’s cool.

On the screen is a bloodied corpse holding a gun. You hate this, actually, you fucking hate this.

“Shit, dude up and killed himself,” you say weakly.

Bro laughs. “You _would_ think that, yeah.”

You don’t know what that means. You don’t really want to press. You try and just focus on the chained man screaming for help in a room full of blood and metal.

About 10 minutes is, Bro swings his leg over and lands it down heavily a few feet across from you on the couch. It’s involuntary, again, you can’t fucking control it, that you flinch and jump a few inches back. He sighs.

“Really?”

“The movie’s just got me really jumpy,” you try.

“Mmhmm. Can you try to fucking cool it? You’re starting to piss me off.”

“My bad.”

“No shit. Just watch the fucking movie.”

You try. But you have to watch him, too. You don’t like that it’s so dark and loud, it makes it that much harder to see what he’ll do next. And there’s no real escape in look at the fucking hellscape that is this awful movie. You’re going to have nightmares tonight. No, it's cool, it's okay. This is cool. The shots are cool. Directing. Cool.

You find some respite in thinking about watching Con Air with John instead. That movie legitimately awful, inexcusably horrendous, but it’s unfathomable eons better than this. And John can be kind of a dick sometimes, but he’s fucking great, and you really wish you were hanging out with him instead. The two of you should watch it sometime. Fuck all the conditions, you’ll watch it with him literally at your earliest convenience.

You’re wearing shades, so you like to think that he can’t tell when you’re not watching. But of course you’re wrong, because he can always see right into you.

“Dude, are you even watching? This is the best part.”

“I’m watching it. This shit is sick.”

He pauses the movie and turns to look at you.

“What did Jigsaw just say?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You have no fucking idea.

“Typical Jigsaw shit, playing games and being menacing and whatever. That’s his whole creepy deal. I don’t memorize everything he says,” you try.

He smiles. “Jigsaw wasn’t in the last scene.”

Fuck. Fuck.

“Why aren’t you watching, lil’ man? Too much for you?”

“M-maybe a little?”

“What the fuck, dude? This is pussy shit. You want to see some really fucked up shit?”

“No.”

“Dude. Don’t be lame. Come on.”

He pauses the movie and pulls up Google. Types in a string of characters that you already want to fucking wipe from your memory.

“And this isn’t even getting into the real shit.”

You don’t want to know what that means, so you don’t ask.

He shows you a choice scene. A zombie chases a screaming woman. She falls into a pit of spikes. The shot lingers on her dying as the zombie closing in, dead to pain and ignoring the spikes jutting through its gut, and the light going out of her eyes. It lingers on the thing feasting on her.

“See, this shit is serious. Saw isn’t shit. Saw is all psychological. The gore is just icing on the cake to make it feel more real.”

“Yeah. I see what you mean. Cool.”

“You ready to actually watch it now?”

“Yeah.”

He pulls the movie back up.

You don’t like it any more than you did earlier, but you know better now. You make yourself focus. You wonder what John is doing. What about Rose or Jade. Jade’s probably doing something really fucking cool. Her life sounds hella lonely, but god you wish you could have that for a while. A whole goddamn island to yourself. But you don’t get too lost in the thoughts. You pay attention.

He continues to quiz you. He seems almost annoyed when you get it right, but he doesn’t press you any further.

It lasts way too fucking long, but when it’s over it almost feels like you blacked out the entire thing? You could not call to mind a single plot point if he asked you. Yeah you really don’t know what the fuck is going on in the mind of Dave right now. Luckily, he doesn’t ask you.

He gets up, pops the movie out.

“Good shit? Or the best shit?”

“Awesome shit.”

“Thought you’d like it. There’s more. You’re gonna love ‘em.”

“Sick.”

“I’m gonna go return this thing. And get some beer. Do you want any?”

“No, I’m good.”

“What’s with you and the short answers? It’s hard to have a conversation with someone when all they say is yes and no.”

You tense up. You hate when he does this, this might actually be the worst thing, when he wants you to act all fucking chummy with him. It’s so hard to get out of these conversations, he’ll argue with you until you give him what he wants, but sometimes you manage, so you always have to try.

“Just don’t have much to say yet. It’s a lot to think about, you know?” It’s weird, words coming out of your mouth like this? “Gotta mull it over. These thoughts have gotta age before you imbibe ‘em.”

He laughs. “Sounds like bullshit.”

You don’t respond.

“I don’t have time to deal with this shit right now, you ungrateful little shit. Don’t know why I bother with you.”

You don’t respond. You pray he doesn't decide to hit you this time.

“Whatever. Make your dumb little comics all night, I’ll be back later.”

You don’t respond. You don’t move. He grabs his keys and leaves.

You stop the title screen from playing that incessant jingle and wait to hear his steps down the stairwell. Then you lock the front door. You go back to your room and close the door. You lay on your bed for a bit and stare at the ceiling, trying to breathe. Your stomach rumbles, but you know there’s jack shit to eat, so you ignore it.

Then you pull out your phone and open your chatlog.

EB: god, you always leave so suddenly, what the hell. what are the conditions! i need to know!

EB: ugh, whatever. tell me when you come back online.

EB: talk to you later!

TG: hey

EB: dave! where the hell did you go? did you watch con air without me?

TG: ha i wish

EB: …you do? are you okay? has hell frozen over on planet dave?

EB: i think i hear something outside. it’s the multi-headed angels of the apocalypse. you've brought them here.

TG: i mean im not saying that movie is good by any stretch of the definition

TG: im just in the mean kinda mood where a guy just wants to watch something dumb you feel

EB: sure, dave. justify it however you want. i can read between your lines, and they’re broadcasting your crush on nic cage.

TG: ew no

EB: it’s okay! your secret is safe with me. besides, it doesn’t really count as gay, as far as i’m concerned, not when it comes to nic.

TG: i now know entirely too much about how badly you want to bone nic cage please erase this from my memory

EB: i don't want to bone him!

TG: i see you typing and

TG: i can guarantee that i wont want to read whatevers on the other side of those dots insofar as they have to do with your complicated feelings about nic cage

TG: can we start the movie

EB: fine, fine, i’ll drop it for now. but only for now!

EB: i'm setting up the streaming site now, give me a few minutes.

TG: cool


End file.
